#I’m sorry if this is bad😭

[faeskiss]

MY EVERYTHING ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Zaros x reader!

I am not a stranger to weary days, in fact I’ve been nothing but weary for the past couple of weeks…

I cannot for the life of me recall the last time I could peacefully allow myself to lay my head down and give in to sleep, it’s been so long since I’ve had a pleasant dream, cruel and unbearable ones plague me instead, making my nights excruciatingly miserable.

How am I supposed to study and give it my all in the trials if I’m not well rested? Everything in life worries me and I feel utterly powerless, it’s funny actually, how can an earis, someone who’s birthright is power itself, feel devoid of it? It’s all just a big joke

I can clearly hear the storm outside grow worse and worse, lightning cracks and rumbles relentlessly, I usually enjoy rain, but this, this is absolutely terrifying and it’s fuelling my unease by the second

I keep tossing and turning, trying to breathe and collect my thoughts, but it’s no use, it seems my own mind hates me just as much as everyone else.

After a few more torturous moments of pure agony I decide to go outside, I know the storm is raging and growing like wildfire but I can’t stand to be cooped up in my room like this…

I step outside of my room and as soon as I do I am met with a breeze that’s fervently cold, the walls of this palace echo the rage of the storm, it’s truly a ghastly night

I pull my shawl closer to me and wrap my hands inside of it, trying to grasp whatever warmth I can, I slowly pace the halls, passing various rooms, my feet can’t help but abruptly stop in their tracks…

I find myself standing just outside of Zaros’s room and a wave of nostalgia washes over me, I remember all the times we hid from the uproar of the sky, he HATED storms..

I don’t know what’s happening, but it feels like I’m not in control of my reflexes, I immediately go up to the door and knock, knowing full well someone might see or hear me, knowing I’d regret it later

“The earis invited themselves into Zaros’s room the other night, it seems his notorious ways are finally rubbing off on them, what a shame”

Heaven knows what other things these nobles would say, why don’t I ever learn?

The horror of what I’ve done suddenly seeps into me, and before I can even turn around to save face, I am much too late

He opens the door….his green eyes look tired and worn down, the usual charm and gleam is missing in them

“Uhm…..hello?” He asks, obvious confusion painted on his face

I clear my throat, and try to answer

“H-Hello, I- uhm” I reply, absolutely failing to come up with an excuse as to why I am here, in the dead of night, unannounced, barely decent

“You are the last person I would ever expect to show up at my door, in the thick of night” he says with a soft, unexpected laughter

“Trust me, I am just as confused as you are” I reply with a faint laugh

“It seems that I’m finally rubbing off on you huh?” he says slyly

“Oh please! it’s not like that, I-‘’ before I can finish my sentence a loud clap of thunder booms and reverberates through the halls, startling us both

“I JUST don’t want to be alone, during this outpour…….I’m sorry but I just didn’t know where else to go” I say, surprising myself

His eyes soften, and a warm, empathetic smile forms on his face, something I thought I’d never see from him, ever again…

All of a sudden, he reaches for my hand, gently and slowly pulls me in the room, and I just let him

He then shuts the door behind us

I cannot believe that I’m in Zaros Atha’llin’s room……..at night…… the nobles would have a field day if they ever caught wind of this, but the truth is, that I don’t care, when I know I should and that gravely concerns me

“Look, I’m so very sorry I interrupted your sleep, I didn’t-“ I say

“It’s okay, I was awake anyways” he cuts me off

“Couldn’t sleep?” I ask

“You of all people should know how much I loathe storms” he adds

“How can I ever forget” I reply softly

“I see you haven’t grown to like them either”

“Ha! Never” I reply

“I think we should sit down” he says as he moves towards the bed

“ah yes, of course” I reply as I follow him

I seat myself beside him, another frantic wave of nostalgia crashes against me, I always sat next to him back in school….

“I know there’s something troubling you, something other than the storm” he says in a calm yet stern voice

“I- I just” I try to reply, but I just can’t, it’s quite abnormal being vulnerable to him, the last time him and I had a heart to heart was quite simply a lifetime ago

“Please do not feel obligated to talk about it, take your time” he says

“I just have the worst, most obscene amount of anxiety these days, and it only gets worse and worse as the weeks pass” I reply, this took a lot of courage and valour, it took all the strength in me to even say these words to someone

“I-I understand you more than you might ever know, it seems that these trials have not been kind to either of us, the stakes are unachievable and the water’s rough, you are not alone, I feel it too” he says in a somber tone, his expression is filled with gloom

His words shoot right at my heart, making me feel understood and protected, I would have never imagined that anything he’d said would have this affect on me, but I don’t despise it, not even a little bit

“I wouldn’t wish this entire ordeal on my worst enemy…..which,would be you I suppose” he ends his sentence with a unexpected burst of laughter, which in turn makes me laugh too

“I suppose so” I reply, giggling like a child

Me and Zaros, actually laughing together, as if nothing’s ever changed, I never would’ve imagined

“From best mates who are absolutely inseparable to enemies who are fighting for the throne, how the tides change” he says, looking directly at my face, I am unsure of the intention behind his tone

“It’s all written in the stars, what can us mere mortals do about it?” I reply, fidgeting with my fingers

Silence creeps into the space between us for a few moments, it’s absurdly comforting, sitting next to him, I can feel his warmth, it’s familiar and safe, it feels like home….he feels like home

“I cannot believe that I’m actually about to say this, but I feel as if I have to, for my own sanity” he says

“What are you trying to say?” I reply, puzzled as ever

“I-I really wish I never left, I wish I stayed by your side, I wish I never lost the eight years I could have had with you” he says, desperation laced in his voice

I look at him with wide eyes and shock painted on my face, I have a very strange feeling that I know what he’s about to say

“Zaros, plea-“ I try to interrupt him

“No, just don’t!” he snaps

“I have felt this way for quite a while now, and sometimes, it’s all I can think about, I wish we never had that wretched fight in the first place!” He exclaims

I am left utterly speechless by his words, nothing could have ever prepared me for this

“I really wanted you to trust me more!” he adds

That sets me off, how can he ever expect me of all people to trust him? After his relentless insults and torments, he is so delusive

“Don’t start!” I snap

“What? Are you that scared of the truth?” he interrupts

“Well you have not made it easy for me, have you now?” I sneer as I jolt up, out of the bed

“What do you mean?” he replies as he gets up

“How in the name of Gods can you expect me to trust you after everything that’s happened? You agreed to contest against me, we are competing AGAINST each other or have you forgotten? How can I trust you any which ways? You are my rival!” I say with all the anger my voice can muster

“I had no.other.choice” he replies sternly

“And besides is that all I am to you? Just a rival, an enemy you want to overthrow? Or did you forget us and everything we were before our fallout, did all that mean nothing to you? You are deeply imbedded in all my memories, all my feelings, all my thoughts, there isn’t a corner in my soul where I can’t find you….you, you were everything to me, still are” he says

I want to absolutely scream at his words, he can’t just say that and the worst part is I can’t decide if I’m angry with him or yearning for him

“Please….don’t do this” I say, almost in a whisper, my voice shakes a bit

“How much longer are you going to pretend that you were never in love with me?” he snaps

I can feel my heart stop, my mind starts to fog up and I can barely breathe, a dull, crushing gust of pain swims across my chest…that is until I feel a violent rush of anger flow through me, red and fiery

“You…“ I rage

“I-I’m sorry, I went too far, I shouldn’t have-“ he says

“And you want me to “trust” you, I should’ve never come here in the first place” the hurt in my voice is evident and loud, and I might just burst into tears any second

I abruptly turn and sprint to the door, but before I can open it, he yanks my hand and pulls me to him

“I am so sorry, I know I’ve crossed way too many lines, I am a reckless fool, please forgive me, please stay” he says in the most desperate tone I have ever heard

“Give me one good reason why” I hiss

“I can’t” he replies

“I know I’ve caused you nothing but pain ever since I came back, I can see it on your face every single second, minute and hour I am near you, I have no excuse and no reason, I-I won’t force you to stay or do anything you don’t want to, but just know, how very sorry I am, for it all, we don’t even have to speak if that’s what you want, I care about you way more than I can ever express and I can’t handle seeing you so upset, I won’t hurt you, ever again, I promise, no matter what happens after the trials, it won’t change how I feel about you, nothing ever will” he says

I don’t reply, not because I don’t want to but because I just do not know how, my heart is heavy with a feeling I’d rather not feel, especially not for him, but I can not help it

“I don’t expect you to forgive me and-“

I don’t know what comes over me, but I wrap my arms around him in frantic desperation, as if he’s going to run away from me, as if I’m going to lose him all over again…

He slowly envelopes me in his arms, it’s very gentle, I can feel his heartbeat against my own, his warmth is infectiously addicting, I could practically fall asleep like this

“Don’t ever leave me, ever again, do you understand?” I assert

“I promise you with all my heart, I am never going away, my sweet earis” he replies in a soft, honeyed tone as he places a kiss on my cheek

“Zaros” I call to him as I pull away

“Yes?” He replies as he looks at me eagerly

“I have something very important to confess” I say

“What is it?” he replies as his expression grows more serious

“I am so very sorry I called you a leech” I say, not being able to hold back the mischievous smile forming on my face

At that we both erupt into laughter, and I embrace him once again, feeding off of his warmth

“And I’m sorry I called you a palace brat…though you still kind of are one” he says in a playful mocking manner

“Oh please , you love it” I reply in a calm, unbothered tone, my head resting his shoulder

“Yes, yes I do” he replies as he holds me tightly in his arms

[ropes3amthoughts]

This is such a mess but do you guys get my vision

[emmcfrxst]

okay so dick grayson x reader where the reader is sparring with dick in the headquarters and dick can’t even focus because he just keeps thinking “I need her” so he MANHANDLES her to the ground and yeah you take it from there bae 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️

he’s still such a lovesick fool even when he’s horny— he’s swooping down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose before grinning at you, his hair falling in his eyes and he fully leans into your touch like a cat when you reach up to push his hair out of his face, resting his cheek into your palm, and he gets so caught up in admiring you that he fully forgets, for a short moment, what he’s doing and why he’s doing it, until you shift underneath him and you wrap a leg around his waist and pull his hips into yours, making him gasp and shut his eyes at the friction of his hard cock against your clothed cunt, the thin material of your workout pants letting him feel just how warm and wet you are for him

[mediumgayitalian]

“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”

Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.

“It’s just hair, Will.”

“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”

“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.

“‘S’not fair.”

“Mhm.“

“Your hair listens to your instructions.”

“Yep.”

“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”

Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”

“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”

“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.

“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”

Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.

“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.

Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.

“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.

Will harrumphs.

“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”

“I used gel.”

Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”

“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”

“I bet.”

“And yet!”

“And, yet.”

Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things — why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.

Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“I like your hair, you know.”

“It’s a stupid mess.”

He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.

“I like the stupid mess.”

“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”

“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.

“Shut up.”

Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.

Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.

“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”

“What,” Will grumbles.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.

“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”

“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.

Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”

“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”

“I would not!”

“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”

“I did not!”

“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”

“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”

“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.

Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.

“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”

Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”

Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.

“I never thought you were a freak.”

Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”

“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”

Nico bites his lip. Hard.

“The number never got higher than six.”

“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”

Will sighs.

“You can laugh.”

Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Gods, you are — a mess.”

“Mhm.”

Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.

“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”

“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.

[elizakai]

horrordust nation where you at (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

[mcondance]

giving steven head. sighs.

steven. . steven’s so reactive. he’s so fucking sensitive. every time you even lay a finger on him he’s damn near shaking, trembling under your touch. and when you have your mouth wrapped around his dick, your tongue tracing the pretty veins on the underside of his shaft. . he’s a mess.

a pretty mess. your pretty mess, his curls ruffled and some sticking to his forehead with sweat, big chocolate eyes low and almost closed, except for when he can pry them open to watch you take him down your throat so well.

when he watches, it’s a show. your pretty plump lips wrap around him, mouth stretched wide around his thick cock, hands wrapped around the base of him and sliding down to run your hands over his heavy balls, his thighs clenching up every time you move.

and just like normally, when he’s rambling about old egyptian culture or babbling about something or the other, he’s so damn talkative.

“feels so good, love, feels perfect.”

“yeah— fuck, your mouth feels so. .”

“feels like— ah, god like that, keep goin’ li’ that.” his sentences are scrambled, words just barely formed around his heavy tongue before you swipe them away with swirls of your tongue around his tip, eyes fixed on his flushed face. “so good to me.” is what he whispers with a shake of his head when his eyes find yours, his hand moving from the sheets to your hair to push it out of your face, to repay the pleasure you’ve given him with that small gesture.

when he's close, you know it. whether it's his whiny groans, or his nodding when you take him all the way to the base, or his babbled "gonna cum, wanna cum, yeah". . you know. so you keep doing what you're doing, and he keeps singing fucked-out praises to you until he's cumming down your throat, your lips painted white with the release that drips down his cock.

with his eyes fixed on you is how he cums, his lips forming a pretty "o", chest heaving and hands tightening in your hair and in the sheets. and with soft smiles and kisses is how he thanks you, hand cupping your cheek as he thanks you the best way he knows how.

well, the second best way. but that's for another time.

[sapphicpipedream]

okay but what if some time after kevin leaves the nest but before jean does, kevin goes out shopping one day and he goes into this little store. he finds a dainty silver bear charm and remembers the little magnet he bought jean all those years ago. he picks out a matching silver charm bracelet and pays for it without even thinking. when he gets back to fox tower he remembers he can’t send it to jean anymore and it sits hidden in his dresser for like a year. he takes it out sometimes on his worst days when he’s incomprehensibly drunk and trying to forget about the nest and thinks about the boy he left behind. even after renee saved jean he never gave him the bracelet. it just didn’t feel right. he wanted to give jean the best possible chance of healing and knew he couldn’t heal properly if he still maintained a close connection to kevin. anyway maybe one day he’s drunk as hell but not drunk enough to forget jean’s current address. he ships the bracelet to him and he knows jean would know who it was from but he never got a message about it from jean. he wasn’t expecting to anyway. after that it becomes easy for him to fall back into a familiar habit. ik the foxes don’t stay long for away games but when they do kevin always manages to find another charm for jean. even when he’s in palmetto and walks across the store he got the first charm at, he always goes in just to see if there’s anything jean would like. he ships out every single one of them now. jean still never acknowledges it and kevin doesn’t stop. when kevin comes to california he notices jean’s wrists are bare but its okay because he never expected jean to wear it. he wasn’t even sure if jean kept any of his gifts. of course, jean kept all of them though. he carefully clasped every new charm to the bracelet. traced the grooves and engravings in each charm with his fingertips. he keeps it underneath his pillow and reaches for it during his bad nights. even after everything just the reminder that kevin cares is still a comfort to him.

[wouldgaysexfixthem]

bbg how are you

[kryhara]

I think this is funny but it doesn’t look right like his face doesn’t look like how I drew it last time Arthur Lester can you just work with me pls

:((( maybe it’s just the angle idk I redrew his eyes twice and might have to redraw them again anyways yes this is a Jerma redraw

Also trying to draw him armor too but that’s also not working he’s being difficult >:(

[officialgleamstar]

Quick still shots of the Wyrdwood PCs, for anyone curious :3

[twinstxrs]

murph knocking it out of the PARK this episode both as riz (badass lil creature, fiercely dedicated to his friends, so deeply loving to his mom & reassuring her that he sees her + appreciates all she does for him) and just as murph (“the beans are due,” laughing at ally’s lack of written saving throws, reaction to the trap door bit, “so tactical, so late”)

[riaki]

an excuse to touch | suguru geto x reader

pt.2 of christmas event! cw: reader is kinda drunk, u and him have a bunkbed but he always sleeps w u on the lower bunk :3

not proofread

"su— guru!"

he knows that pitchy voice; a lilt to it that tells him you've been drinking. a slur that links your breathy words together like the taut strings of a spider's web that's so imperceptible that it would've been impossible to pick up, unless you were him. because suguru knows you better than anyone else.

you say his name weird, which means you've indulged on the bottle of liquor your next-door neighbor brought you that morning, wrapped in a pretty festive ribbon with a snowman drawn into the cork. "my son drew it," your neighbor had explained, and suguru wonders how good of a parent he is, to be letting his 6 year-old doodle on a bottle of wine.

he doesn't have time to concern himself with other people's lives, however. he has his hands full making sure you don't topple into the christmas tree you'd both worked your asses off to decorate last weekend when you stumble into the living room like you're walking on two left feet, threatening to trip over the cord connecting the soft yellow lights to the outlet in the wall. he distinctly remembers the argument you had last night— you thought rainbow lights would look nicer on the tree, but he liked just yellow. in the end, he'd gotten what he wanted— but there wasn't much to gain when you had stolen his sweater and refused to give it back as a vengeance. and now, he couldn't find it.

"right here," he calls, looking up at you from where he's seated on the couch in your living room. the little tv screen plastered to the wall has a fake fire playing over the screen; he knows you love the immersion, even if your apartment complex doesn't have a fireplace or a chimney.

you make your way over to his chair and promptly fall into his already-waiting arms. he pulls you flush to his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin and letting you snuggle up to him in his lap. his callused hand immediately snakes up your back to slip beneath your shirt, massaging your back. his embrace is warm; soft. and he smells good, like pine needles and something gently sweet, a little smoky.

soon, your hands find his hair, winding a trail up his neck to thread into the dark strands and pull out the tie. before you can move any further, though, a hand darts out to catch your wrist, and the other moves to tilt your chin up and force you to meet his stern gaze, warm like amber resin on the tree bark.

"[name], where's my sweater?" he asks, raising an accusatory eyebrow. just like that, you shrink away, and he smothers the snicker of amusement that threatens to spill out like hot cocoa with a hand over his lips.

you blink, and he watches your eyelashes flutter. they catch the fake firelight, glowing like billowing reeds under a bright sun in lakewater that reflects the summer sky. "i dunno." a blatant lie; obviously, you do know, because a bit of the red string has tangled in your hair. it was crocheted for him by a friend; you'd think a doctor would have good needle skills, but operating on a patient might be easier than operating on a DIY crocheting kit and a bundle of old string. nevertheless, he took the ugly christmas sweater and cherished it; the scent of cigarette smoke and faintly sterile tiles that clung to it.

but suguru was pretty sure that would soon be replaced by the scent of you, if you kept it much longer. not that he minded, of course.

"i, uh. dropped it. in the fire." you said bluntly, stubbornly weaving your hands into his hair and pulling out his hair tie insistently. a few strands caught; even as drunk as you were, you still took the time to smooth out the tangles so you didn't accidentally rip out a patch of his hair. crude as it was, suguru appreciates little things about you like that. not the fire part, though.

"you dropped it in the fire." he echoes, raising an eyebrow. it feels condescending in a very suguru (read: affectionate) way, so you look away, lower lip sticking out. he thinks that just makes you cuter, though; you look like something straight out of his dreams. he can barely bring himself to be irritated.

"um, yeah."

"so.. it burned up?"

"yes."

"you don't have it anymore."

"no, i don't."

"the fire isn't real," he reminds you quietly; softly if you strain your ears.

"but it's so warm over here. and nice, and cozy. what else could it be?" you protested, flailing your arms as if hitting him would force him to reconcile with your beliefs. suguru just opts to lean away from you, an amused and easy smile on his lips. like he's looking at you in adoration; like you're still the one who was molded from clay to fit in his arms even though you supposedly 'burned' his sweater up.

"not sure," he hums, watching as you stand up on two shaky legs like a newborn doe away from its mother's side; the soft glow from the light of the christmas tree gently illuminating your frame. he wishes he could tug you back by the wrist and kiss you breathless, run his hands over you ever lovingly. "you're just like my personal little space heater." he chuckles, soft smooth and melodic, and it snaps you from your tipsiness as you glance back over at him. “fools me into thinking the fire’s real.”

his hair is loose, tumbling over his shoulders and framing his face like a renaissance prince under the soft light; the brown of his eye shines a gentle caramel, soft and smooth as butter and syrup. there’s an easy smile that curves his lips up; he looks unfairly handsome. he thinks he can catch sight of his reflection in the void of your pupil; it looks like there's a birdnest on his head. he frowns, reaching a hand up to muss the tangled black strands. the windows in the living room are vignetted by a frosted glass, a cold world of white waiting outside. it's almost enough to make him shiver, but here, in the warmth of your presence, the snow melts away with the sunshine of your smile.

his fingers catch in his hair and he lets out a pained grunt. he's straightening his bangs when he looks up from his comfy seat on the couch; you're across the room, sitting on the soft wool carpet. there's a stain on the bundles of fluff, constantly hanging over the both of your heads to remind you of how you'd been enjoying a shared cup of hot cocoa with candy cane chunks when your nasty feline sauntered over and promptly jumped into your lap yet again, knocking over the mug and pouring its terribly sweet and sticky contents onto the wool. it had haunted suguru's domestic household nightmares for days after. your evil cat is curled up in your lap, fluffy mitten paws tucked beneath its head as it naps, and suguru doesn't like the flare of jealousy that springs up in his gut.

you catch the look of disdain on his face and shoot him a lazy smile, tilting your head. it's an invitation if he's ever seen one-- deserved, he thinks to himself. that should be him with his head in your lap, your hands in his hair, smoothing out each individual knot, gently massaging his scalp in the way you knew he loved.

...

he shakes his head and stands, brushing the lint (and cat fur— always a pest) off his sweats and saunters over to you; there's that familiar gait in his step from always walking hunched over during his earlier years of youth. sometimes, you'll build a little pillow fort on your bunk bed and settle in his arms between his legs and listen to him tell you stories from a time that seems so long ago but so fresh like new mint leaves in his memory. he'll play with your clothes, bury his nose in your hair and breathe in the scent of home and something like apples and cinnamon in your shampoo. those fun little story nights are always enjoyable, only because he has the best audience.

he squats down, balancing his elbows on his knees as he peers down at you. your cat in your lap lifts its head, looking like the very dictionary definition of judgmental as it squints at suguru. you just laugh, like silver bells clear in a snowstorm, parting the howling wind as if it's the red sea. paving a path straight through the center of his heart like some cursed cupid's arrow.

he doesn’t mind, though, when you scoot your cat off your lap and open your arms wordlessly. he scoots a little closer before settling into you, back flush against his chest as your arms lock around his waist. you rest your chin on his shoulder and he can’t help the rush of butterflies in his stomach; suguru’s never been the type for this sort of girlish, giddy love. but you always bring new things to the table, don’t you? he loves that about you.

suguru settles into your arms, tilting his head to intercept the kiss he knows you’re about to plant to his cheek to instead meet your lips with his, and he swallows and relishes the little surprised gasp that leaves you when he does. a moment later, he hears a pretty little giddy laugh, and he can’t fight the smile that spreads over his lips.

"you're so soft," he whispers, and it's much more exhausted than he thinks it has any right to be, on such a comforting night like this when your laugh smells of sweet liquor wrapped in chocolate and you serve as good of a sweater as any clearance sale item could.

and soon enough, your fingers slide into his hair, separating soft dark strands like you're organizing a collection of seashells. it takes him a while to notice, but he soon realizes you're braiding his hair. the wind howls outside and the fake fire doesn't provide any heat, but your gentle touch and warmth feel like a cozy throw blanket hanging around his shoulders. and he feels okay now; with the way you run your fingers through his hair, delicately gathering the strands from his hair and running a thumb down the length to smooth the knots, weaving them together like a natural crown of holly flowers.

you brush a stray strand from the nape of his neck, and he shivers when your fingertips brush against the tip of his ear. he can't help but smile when you notice the goosebumps on his bare arms and free one hand to reach for his, tangling your fingers together while you untangle the mats in his hair. it's far too cold for him to be wearing that simple, worn white cotton shirt, but he doesn't mind if you'll be the one to keep him warm through this cold season.

it's all fine and dandy until he speaks up again, when you're nearly falling asleep over his head and your arms drape over his chest, toying with the sapphire necklace around his neck. your little cute breaths tickle the top of his head; you've finished the braid. it's a little messy and stray hairs stick out here and there— but at least you didn't settle for pigtails.

when he speaks, it's not directed towards you, though— he's speaking to your cat, with a stern tone you only recognize as the one he uses with you whenever your clothes end up on his side of the drawer or when his jewelry (or hairties) go missing.

and when you open your eyes groggily after suguru shifts to sit up, feeling the dreary loom of a mini hangover after you fall asleep in his arms tonight— you're blessed with the sight of your beloved house pet— a shredded chunk of tacky fabric from suguru's sweater in its mouth, and the death glare that you can only imagine contorting your handsome boyfriend's face.

needless to say, your cat will be nowhere around the two of you when you decide to share a therapeutic cup of hot cocoa again this time.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

[malenjoyer]

Good morning 🙏🏼

I want to thank everyone their support with reblogging my stuff over the years and reblogging some of the context of the situation.

Tumblr and Instagram is filled with the most supportive people I’ve ever had the chance of meeting. The last time something like this happened, I didn’t have much support, not even from people I thought were close to me. It took me a year or two to be okay with being perceived again in fandoms. So I’m very grateful for everything.

I just wanted to post that I appreciate all of the asks and I’ve been reading all of them. I actually get anxious I’m spamming everyone too much so I probably won’t reply to everything. Please don’t feel pressured to support me financially, there’s is a free option on patreon to follow. I’ll post future project plans and occasional updates because I still love comics and I still love DC/Marvel. I do enjoy having people following along for my art/reading journey so I would always be okay with people just following for free. My brain is telling me this post is too long now so I will go 🙏🏼😭

[100cat]

Shout out to aplatonics that do experience romantic attraction. No one talks about it, but I see y’all, and I think it’s cool 💅👍

[chloesimaginationthings]

Shueisha color teasers dropped! thoughts on the pallettes?

Okay quick rundown of what I think!

I think Jodio and Dragona look the best, I’m glad they kept Jodio’s colours, and Dragona looks more or less what I expected!

Though I’m not in love with the orange outfit for dragona, I think green or purple would have looked way better! Paco is fine, though I think his hair should have been a dirty blonde.

And I’m so sorry Usagi enjoyers, he’s a lost cause, they made him tingle. They feared to let him slay, they debuffed him. It almost looks alright but then they made the hat neon blue,,, should of been at least red to at least compliment just a lil

I think everyone else’s colours are fine! Though kinda just standard, and I do love November rain, I won with him having blue!! (Looks like weather report which is super cool)

Tbh I can get use to these colours, EVEN though I’ll probably still use the colour palettes I’ve been using, not like Shueisha colours are canon, It’s disappointing they just used palettes from certain Araki paintings over trying to make their own decisions on palettes

Jodio is fine, seeing Araki used it multiple times so it feels like that is what Jodio is supposed to look like, but taking from a painting where the whole point is to be one certain colour scheme, where everyone matches (Araki does these types of paintings a lot) feels somewhat misguided and will make Dragona, Paco and Usagi blend together and while Jodio will stand out.

I feel like there should be more variety of colours amongst the group, similar to how Golden Winds cast are all defined by one colour. I felt like it was too soon to give them colours, but again maybe I’ll warm up to them,

Definitely still using my own palettes whenever I feel like drawing them again🩵🩵🩵

[booplesnotts-art]

Oh Constance Hardbroom how I love you (so much that I made a whole ass character based on her/hecate💀)

I love her and that silly little wide eyed stare of hers she does in almost every episode she’s lovely